In sad sweet memory
by bloodiedwings109
Summary: When I lost my baby... kitty...this is what i wrote for her...please rest in peace my love....


When things are Lost...  
  
Two in the morning short story...Reason will be explained in the story though....  
  
"Mum, she's sick, look at her." Hiroko whined softly, holding a thinning cat to her breast. It's not like the cat was close to death, it just looked angrey being held. Hiroko's mother turned to her, a little annoyed at the dark hair teen following her around the house. "She's fine. Just keep feeding her. Maybe she'll get the hint." her mother replied quickly, sharply. The girl sighed and stalked back to her room, cat in arms and feeling defeated. She set the feline on her bed and shut the door.  
  
Hiroko was a neat young girl, her hair dark, but not black, long and reaching her waist. Her green hazeled eyes hid unsucessfully behind long bangs and her skin pale. She sighed and lay next to her feline. She seemed tall, but well built aside from that. She wore only black though, having lost something already that she cherished, she vowed to always remeber and appear like it. The cat growled gently and moved away, unhappy about being held earlier. Hiroko growled back softly and rubbed the cats head before getting up again. "You!" she barked and pointed a slender finger at the ebony cat on her bed. "You, doll, have to eat something!" she finished and grabbed the cat in a rough hug that earned her a loud growl strangling a purr from escaping. She let go and began to a desk.   
  
Her room was a bit less than desirable, provided it was never clean and seemed to always have a certain smell of cat and candles. But she tried to keep it clean, never really succeding, her mess of ebony clothes always winning that battle. Her bed pushed against the far wall near the large window that opened up to the front porch and her desk across the room against the same wall but futher from her bed, fear that she should knock something off. The bed always neat, but the desk less than that. Her desk consisted of papers, a text book everynow and again, japanese art books or more than enough sketch books with torn papers or postits lineing the desk in the confusion of clutter. A laptop battled to stay atop the mess, along with a printer. On the far wall away from the window, was a shelf overflowing with stuffed rabbits and little knick-knacks, beside that was a fish tank with a few more than five fish and snails. Her dresser against another wall was even moreso cluttered with stuff, a rat tank with a black and white rat in it, animal food, hand sanitizers, lotions and perfumes. Books on the side, a jar of marbles and a doll filled the small dresser. Beside the small dresser was a taller one with only a silver stereo and speakers. Her mirror was hoplessly covered in pictures drawn for her or little memories she kept, proving that the asumption of her not using one was right, she was not going into school to impress the oppisite sex, she found that silly and muchless, pointless, so if she looked scruffy or didn't match, she didn't care. Her floors were hardwood and nicely painted over in hopes of lessing the scratches, mind that, the two dogs tore that hope to shreds with long black nails.   
  
Hiroko sat in a chair near her desk and sorted out a few papers before giving it up and returning to her bed, arguing with the feline already occuping it for some room. She didn't exactly win that fight and ended up curled around the winner in a light sleep. The sounds of the cat purring had lulled her into sleep, but the fear of crushing the cat kept her awake also. Her feline, black all around and long haired, moon yellow eyes and chubby features, provided her only comfort after the death of her other cherished creature. She held the aging feline tighter in fear and whispered softly in the hurt memory, "You can't leave me here by myself..." she begged softly, sensing the cats high age and nearing of death.   
  
It wasn't that Hiroko herself feared death, no, she welcomed it with open arms. But it was the fear of loosing something she held closest to her. Having already lost alot that she held to her, she feared to love anything else, afraid of being hurt again. She argued with students and teachers that dared to oppose her views of loss. Moreso with ones that are new to it and think that their lives have ended, when really, it has begun. She was the sort that held a morbid outlook to life, hating it and cursing it for all it's unfair turns for the worst. But at the same time, she encouraged others to fight their way into life, only to leave her behind once they get up to their feet again. That's all she viewed herself to be, a sort of leaning post for those that have stumbled or fallen. She only helps them to their feet and assures the fact they can carry on, but always letting her hand go and cursing her before leaving. It was her purpose in life, and she hated it, she could never follow them through the world. She found that she was only to be a shadow, pushed aside and ignored. After a while, she became numb to it. But, a sort of numbness that reminded her what she was, not what she could have been.  
  
  
  
Weeks had gone by of the suspected illness of the feline and she proved right to the fact. The once chubby, overwieght cat had dwindled to a helpless ball of fur and bones, Hiroko being afraid to even hold her in fear she should accidently crush her. The cat was not eating for weeks on end, and she began to hide in the closet or in a corner, only to be brought back out by Hiroko in sad attempts to keep her alive. The cat was getting thiner and thiner each day, weaker and weaker, and closer to what Hiroko didn't want. She tried to keep the cat far from that and would hold her in the most ungodly hours of the morning, proving to herself that the feline she reguarly fought with was still with her.  
  
Monday night. Hiroko whined mercilessly and crawled into her bed, beside her sick feline. She had taken the cat from hiding and layed her on her bed where she would sleep, but now, she felt guilty and decide not to move her out of the way. She curled around the cat and ran slender fingers through the fur. The cat purring in reply and picking up her head to look at the human, only to rest again back against the pillow she was set upon. Hiroko had begun to drift into sleep, mindless of the cat that had snuggled against her.  
  
The feline moaned sickly, an inhuman sound escaping her throat in her sleep. Hiroko began to wake, stroke the fur and murmer gentle words of fighting reassurance. The sound came forth again and Hiroko tried to get closer to comfort the cat in pain. She looked sleeply to the time, two in the morning, she whined and rest against the cat again, hugging it closer. She stoped. The rise and fall of the felines chest had ceased. She shook the cat gently, hoping to wake her. "Kitten?" she whined softly, failing to wake her. She got up quickly and flicked her light on, rushing to the bed where her cat slept. She shook her again, stopped, feeling the tears rush to her eyes in a stinging pain. "Baby kitten, please..." she begged and curled onto the bed, she picked up the felines limp form and hugged it close, looked into the moonlit eyes and whined louder. "Please, kitten, wake up." she begged again, hugging the feline to her, leaning against the bed, not really moving the cat from it's place. She had already began to cry, begging the feline to wake, to show her it was an act or bad dream. But still having no reasponse. She felt helpless again, hugging her lifeless cat and crying her pain. She could not handle death to begin with, but she hurt even more now that it happened right before her. She didn't know what to do. Who to turn to, muchless, who could she cry on? She felt so pathetic. Her? Cry? She wanted to laugh at that, but her body hurt too much to let her. She hated to cry, but why did she do it so freely now? She needed somebody to talk to her. She needed a human voice to tell her everything was okay. Hiroko's thoughts where jumbled and confused. She needed somebody so badly, but the hours of morning were unheard of to actually wake anyone. She cried into the cats fur. She hated this. The feeling of loss, the feeling of need. She hated it. She didn't want to lean on anybody, she didn't want to cry anymore, but it hurt so much. She felt herself fall again, falling to the painful pit of dispare. She lost something that she knew could not be replaced, right before her very eyes in her grasp. She touched it, she held it, she let it die in her arms. She hated it. She could have done something. She hated it. All of it. Hiroko was confused again, she was feeling helpless, enraged, and hurt all at the same time. What was she going to do? She seriously needed someone to hold her, to hear the human voice. What was she doing?   
  
She didn't sleep that night, having stayed up crying and rocking herself on the bed in hopes to help her sleep, but she didn't. Morning came by slowly, creeping into the dawn and chasing the hated night away. She managed to drag herself from the feline and into the shower, washing herself from the smell of death and pain. Her school day? How was she going to be now? What was going to happen? Should she tell her friends? Or should she keep it to herself? She wanted to feel comfort, but not vunrable. Was that selfish? She peeked into her room at the cat, and broke down again. "What do I do now...? It's not fair...You can't leave me..." she whined and fought back her tears, shutting the door, leaned against it and slidding to the floor.   
  
She didn't mind death, she welcomed it. She found it intresting, and appealing to her already twisted mind. But holding something in her arms as it died? She couldn't handle that. She hated death for that. She wished, she wished she could shield her loved ones from that, hug them close and ward off the fiend from taking away her most prized and loved. She didn't want it to win again, and it wasn't going to. She was fighting life before, now she fought death also. Her father, her great grandmother, her friends, her rabbit, now her cat, she all lost them all, all withen a few years time, a few closer than others. But only until now did she hold it in her grasp, to the dying end...  
  
~Sardonyx Shi Alucard  
  
Did you get it? My Skribbles died December 16 2003, Tuesday Morning..2:05 AM...In my arms...It's sorta me...it is me......But...It's true...all of it....Please....In Memory of Skribbles....I won't let it happen again... 


End file.
